Tantalizing You
by Wordgawk
Summary: Dante escapes from a boring day at the office. He does some humanly things that the Earth newbie Trish can't comprehend.
1. Hair Admiration

Author's note: Interest drove me to writing this. Or is that obsession? Whichever choice, after a short rental of PS2's Devil May Cry, I knew a fanfic would in inevitable so I began to write. Buying the game a short time later, I continued writing and cranked out this story! My first DMC fic, ladies and gentlemen. Let me know what you think in those reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own DMC or its game related characters. Really.

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Tantalizing You

Dante Sparda's lightly dozing form jolted at the sound of an insufferable loud bang. A rush of cool air ruffled the silvery bangs drooping over his half-lidded cobalt eyes and he knew it wasn't the air conditioning acting up. It took him a hazy moment to figure out two things: First of all, the afternoon rain still held its death-like grip on time, meaning still more opportunity to catnap.

Secondly, he figured out that it was one of Devil Never Cry's new double doors that was the source of the horrid noise. His gloved hands instinctively reached to his holsters for Ebony and Ivory, his most loyal handguns. Mild fumbling ensued due to residual fog that invaded his cognitive process. Add to it his long legs which had gone totally numb as a result of being propped up for way too long on his office desk. He twisted, hoping momentum would push them to the floor. Nothing. He couldn't get them to budge! Clumsiness was definitely going to get him killed, but his legs wouldn't damn move! At least his arms were functional as they outstretched and aimed for the intruder's head. Demon-enhanced acuity made life good in frozen moments like this, especially with this poor lighting in the dingy office he considered home.

"Is that the kind of welcome I get from you? Thanks so much."

Upon recognizing the panting trespasser, he relaxed, knowing real danger wasn't about to rear its head, unless well-aimed insults counted. He replied, "Just wanted to check those fantastic reflexes of yours, Trish." He put away his guns and took a slow couple seconds to back up his swivel chair until his black boots thudded on the hard wooden floor. He let out a satisfied groan at the tingling sensation that began to spread up from his toes to his fingertips. A chuckle escaped when Dante noticed the accumulating puddle of rainwater at her feet, but the sour expression on Trish's face amused him far more. He cleared his throat. "Y'know, I heard an umbrella is perfect for preventing your situation. Or do you just love singing in the rain?"

His assistant shoved the door closed, then walked over to the front of his huge desk. "Shut up." She wore a light blue halter top and exquisite leather pants, black as always. A nice pair of matching boots completed her ensemble. Her waist-length tresses clung to her skin and made dark blotches on her shirt, reminding Dante just how long that hair of hers really was. He swore he could feel his pupils dilate as his deliberate eyes roamed her dripping form up and down...and again. Nice shoulders, he thought in appreciation. The bright blue of her shirt was certainly an alluring change. Whenever she came into the office, her wardrobe was always something dark. Black, brown, whatever. He noticed she even brought along a beaded purse. The whole thing was shiny and made up of multicolored beads of purple, blue and green.

Trish shook rain off her attire and squeezed at her wheat-colored mane. She said, "I didn't do this on purpose."

"Darling, it looks to me you did." Dante's mad grin couldn't be suppressed. Even with everything that had happened between them back on Mallet Island, she turned out to be a great friend, not to mention one fiery sidekick when it came to matters of demons and other ghoulish things. Because of her friendship status, he loved poking fun at her. The ribbing didn't head into much deeper territory, since he knew going further would only cause unmistakable trouble. Sure, both of them flirted during slow spots of business, even kissed some, but it almost always was a one-sided initiation and it wasn't he who sparked it.

It wasn't like he hated those intimate moments. It was just sometimes he saw his mother from everyday life things that Trish did. An angle her body turned, or how her straight hair fell over her shoulders when she moved a certain way. It wasn't Trish's fault she looked liked his mother. When a memory unlocked, Dante's natural tendency was to remain distant. At times, reminiscing didn't bother him enough to stop flirting and he kept right on doing it. Other times, the notion of having Trish in _that way_ because of his flirtations made his eyes water and he couldn't- wouldn't think of anything that second. If he didn't keep a blank mind, real disgust would follow and it wasn't how he wanted to feel towards Trish. Though he never told this to her in the verbal sense, she seemed to understand the unspoken explanation for his non-reciprocation. He did often wonder about her true thoughts on the matter. Dante's head shook to file away the serious pondering. This could be done another day.

Grumpy Girl continued, "Look, ten minutes ago there wasn't a drop of rain. I'm walking outside nice and content, and then I hear some thunder and the next thing I know, I'm taking refuge here."

"You could have teleported."

"In public? I don't think so." She gestured to her clothes, pale blue eyes scrunching up in a wailing defeat. "This is unfairrrrrr!"

The unbidden snigger that slipped from Dante only provoked more fury from the miserable, wet lady. Furious, she flipped a clump of stray hair off her cheek and shouted, "That's not funny, Dante! Maybe that little red outfit of yours needs the treatment I got!"

All humor stopped dead. He glided quick hands over the smooth crimson leather of his jacket and pants and frowned in unmasked horror. "Like hell! Don't you know leather costs? The real stuff, not that imitation junk." A brash grin appeared. "It took me weeks to find the perfect leather ensemble, not to mention the perfect color."

"All the more reason to get you wet, then." A flick of Trish's dripping hand at his face caused his stern look to deepen to a near scowl. She smiled, then remarked, "My, I didn't know I could make you that grouchy! I AM good!"

"Funny." Leather creaked as the half-demon rose and walked around to relieve his stiff spine. How long had he been sitting in that same position? An hour? He really had to stop falling asleep in that chair. He shot a pointed look at Trish. "You're getting my desk wet. And the floor." He paused. " And you got me wet." Dante baited the last statement like a carrot on a string, waiting for her to take it and retort back with something demeaning.

Arms akimbo, she disappointed when only said, "I need a towel."

"What, no comeback about my wonderful personality?"

"I'm too wet to care."

She had a point, Dante noted. But did he really want to stop the fun of creating more unflattering insults? It induced a sort of high within, all hot and electrifying. So why stop now? Shoving aside the thick curtain on a window he reconsidered his judgment. The dreary rain wasn't going to let up anytime soon and the investigative business of demon slaying produced no exciting results at all today. Other than a misdialed number and a wrong password call, the need for supernatural assistance plain weren't filling up his schedule lately. It wasn't the worst thing in the world; he could sit back and enjoy the city's finest bourbon without worrying about ugly-ass creatures loping up from behind and wanting his head as a trophy. At least, that's what he wanted to believe. Just a fraction.

Yes, as much as Dante hated to admit, he wanted Trish's company, if only for a few hours. Sometimes she would meet up with her friends and every so often he with his own, so they didn't spend too much time together. Spending this afternoon with her didn't seem horrible at all. Evening would reveal its enticing self as always, and then they could wait by the phone some more while dining on tasty TV dinners. With an actual TV. It would be great if the rain stopped by then too. Humid weather made him cranky. Humid weather made his leather outfit _very _cranky.

"Danteeee?"

Dante didn't bother with the curtain. He found a small towel in the tiny bathroom and when he emerged in the office, it jiggled in his hands teasingly. "What's the magic word?"

Trish growled in acute irritation. "Dan-te!"

"Sorry, that's not it. Too bad, it's so very dry." He pressed the fabric against his chest like a heartbroken lover would to a goodbye note.

"Maybe you'd like to reconsider that." With nimble gracefulness in spite of her soaked clothes, Trish danced over to his wall of weapons. From a screwed rack Dante had proudly tacked up, she grabbed his beloved sword Alastor. His mouth parted open in silence, but it shut abruptly, his cocky attitude rising again.

"You flirt with danger, taking my sword."

"And you with my towel!"

"Yours? Funny, I recall me buying it, me bringing it here and me putting it in that bathroom. I don't see how that can make it your towel."

The blonde did some practice swings in the air and ended with a sharp lunge in Dante's direction. "Quit with the brain teasers. You fetched it for me and it's only proper you hand it over." Brilliant, royal blue lightning crackled over the elegant blade as she held it up to admire the shining surface. "This does make a fun weapon. I can, oh say, use this as a pizza cutter." She gasped as something large and soft struck the side of her head and her grasp on Alastor disappeared. After she caught the fluffy object in her arms, her gaze darted around to find sneaky Dante behind her, the sword she claimed mere seconds before resting on his shoulder. His icy blue eyes narrowed upon eye contact. He said, "Nobody makes a pizza cutter from this beauty."

"Except you, maybe." Trish smiled thanks as she toweled her long hair.

Dante returned the sword to its glorious place on the wall, glad to have it in his possession again. Holding Alastor always made him feel all cozy inside. His long trench coat swung around as he turned. "Not when it comes to my weapons."

"You're hopeless. I figured with everything you've gone through with Mundus, those experiences would have made you more sensitive. Guess I'm wrong."

"Hey, you got the towel, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but not after threatening your Alastor to a lowly state of being a pizza cutter instead of a demon cutter."

He let out a low sigh at the insidious d-word. "That might be the case if we don't get a decent job soon. This almost makes me want to be back on Mallet Island." A rumble of thunder made him glower at the window. "Unless this rain drowns all the freaks first. Then I'm really unemployed."

Trish went to the window and looked at the endless rain as she dried. "It'll stop soon."

He scoffed while following her line of vision to the outside world, perching himself on the edge of his desk. "What makes you say that? You followed the weather report today?"

The damp towel landed on his lap and he in turn, tossed it on the heavy desktop. "You've got to have optimism about this sort of thing," she explained patiently. "Don't let the bad weather ruffle your feathers." She moved toward him and smiled brightly. Then she mussed his long bangs with a hand. "Or your hair."

Dante seized the hand and in one move he held it behind her back. "Are you in the mood for danger today?" he inquired into her ear. "'Cause I can help you out with that, babe."

"Ouch, let me go! And stop calling me that!"

"What's the magic word- Ugh!" Her free elbow jabbed painfully at his abdomen and he immediately released his captive.

"Thank you," the triumphant girl said, straightening her arm. "That's what you get for calling me a babe ever since we got back from the island."

Smoothing down his frazzled locks, Dante replied, "It's fun. Anyway, it seems to be a slow day for customers, so I thought I might polish up the new doors while I'm here." He pointed at the front, his trademark smirk on his lips. Once they had returned from Mallet Island, he forced her to pay every penny for the replacements. Sparks flew at the start of that conversation, but in the end, after the bickering and refreshing electro-shock treatments, he got his way. It was a sore spot for Trish since the chunk of depleted cash meant less cappuccino fiestas. She had discovered the addictive drink about two weeks after she began working with him. It wasn't a surprise that it had been he whom she spent a major part of her time with, so it was natural that he would be the one to introduce her to the intoxicating substance known as caffeine. Now just over a month had passed for them. Ah, memories.

Now, Trish's expression fell at the reminder of her break-in. "I apologized for that a million times already! How was I supposed to know double doors would cost so much? What's with you and wood, anyway? The walls, the floor, your desk..."

Silence filled the room as Dante contemplated. He tapped a black boot on the hardwood floor in thought, producing a hollow sound with each beat. He liked wood because... well, it always broke effortlessly under his power. Bookcases, chairs, tables...anything lumber. All it took was a swing of his sword or a swipe or two from his flaming Ifrit gauntlets and bang, no more. And wood could shine. Trish laughed at the latter reasoning. "You do love shiny things," she mused, "so that's not quite as ridiculous as it sounds. Your guns, your swords, the amulet."

Reminiscence took a brief hold of his heart as he recalled when his kind mother gave it to him. He was young, not much older than 10. It had been a warm day and special, for birthdays were celebrated for both Dante and his brother Vergil on the same day. Like always, Vergil had been picking on him while they played outside on their reliable swing set. It was guaranteed to be fun in five minutes or a scamper to elsewhere.

This time, Vergil's issue was about the lateness of their birthday gifts and how Dante was to blame Maybe Vergil was serious, maybe he wasn't. Either way, taunting continued all through afternoon, but Dante didn't let the pestering bother him. After all, it was his birthday! Evening came around and both boys heard their names called. Happiness infused their mother's face when she came out of their home's front door, her hands held behind her back. Dante picked up on this first and jumped off his swing in mid-arch and raced over. His brother caught up, and both kids went ecstatic when they were each presented with a striking pendant as gifts. Though the light of a dwindling sunset had dimmed to a chilly darkness, the boys didn't pay any mind as they babbled and jumped around in glee at their birthday presents.

The pendant had a light reddish gem in the center with a gleaming silver setting and chain . Dante flipped the jewel over and saw engraved words, _To Vergil and Dante. _Curious why his gift had both their names inscribed (and from the confused look on Vergil's face, he too was thinking the same thing), Dante was about to ask when Mother informed them that both pendants were halves and that each side put together created one full pendant. Dante never saw such a pretty piece of jewelry before. It has power and imbues the holder with both the seen and unseen strength, Mother confided. Naturally naive of what the thing "power" and "unseen strength" truly were, child Dante only nodded and chirped in happiness, "It's really shiny!"

Mother urged them inside the house and told them stories about their father, which made the two brothers even more hyperactive. Dante had always loved hearing them. His ears took in her soft voice as tales of their sacrificing and noble father swirled in his imagination. How brave he was, so dedicated to banishing evil from Earth. Young Dante enjoyed the stories with a passion which often caused bursts of laughter from his entertaining mother with his inane questions and re-enactments. Vergil usually just made fun of him.

The grown Dante of the present blinked a couple times as his mind drifted back to the office. "Uh, so what were your plans?" he asked Trish.

Taking a glance around at the pierced and hung skulls adorning the walls, Trish remarked dryly, "Certainly not here, having those eyeless heads gawking at me."

"You mean not with me." His cheek twitched ever-so-slightly. Did he feel...just a tad upset?

It passed in an eye blink when Trish's vision suddenly found one of those eyeless heads fascinating to admire. "I uh, I didn't say that. I just don't want to be cooped up in here all day."

So, she too had similar affections about spending quality time together. She seemed very shy in admitting it! Something vocal almost accompanied the gleeful grin that lit up Dante's features, but he suppressed the itch. He just kept grinning.

"Yeah. What's the big deal with that? It's not like it's illegal." Trish sounded rather defensive, the pinkness that spread across her face not helping her dignity the absolute slightest.

Now he had to laugh. "Nothing!"

Air exhaled from the blonde's lips and she added with her best haughty voice, "Whatever. I'm going for a latte."

"With that haystack of hair?"

She reached for the top of her head and bee-lined for the bathroom. A faded yelp Dante made out and Trish rushed over to him. Her hand held out. His eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Your hairbrush."

He sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have no such thing."

Her blue eyes turned into horizontal slits when she didn't believe his words. "I don't!" Dante insisted more firmly. Trish continued to glower.

This was the dumbest accusation in the world. Ebony left her holster and curled around his index finger a number of times, then returned back smoothly, his gaze loving the show of flashiness, of lithe. He repeated this four times. With each twirl, the dark metal gleamed in the overhead fluorescent lighting. He wasn't about to give in to some answer which would make girls squeal. He didn't have a damn brush, and that was that. But nooo, the woman had to beat the issue with a stick until it snapped in half. What did she want next, flowered pants? A hate for coffee? He reached for a fifth spin, hand poised above the gun's handle. Trish wouldn't stop glaring. He began to.

"Second drawer down to the right."

"Yesss! I kneeew it!" the girl exclaimed, then flounced back to the mirror. Dante groaned. His pride had been promptly shredded to confetti bits. Ah well, there's got to be another guy somewhere in this world that's gone through the same disgrace, he thought. Seconds passed before Trish's neck stuck out from the doorway briefly. "You need it?"

His face jerked away as it grew hot. "No."

The sound of his hairdryer clicked on in the bathroom and Trish soon returned into the office all smiles, her coiffure tamed to perfection and completely dry. She made a big show of touching it. "I figured you were hiding that brush. There's no way hair your length can't get tangles and how it looks perfect always!" She whispered in his ear, "I saw that bottle of hot oil treatment. Is that how your hair stays shiny?"

Dante's face flared. Just wonderful. "Will you shut up about my hair? You made your point. 'Dante Sparda cares about his hair.' I see nothing wrong with good grooming. It's how you make a fine impression in the business world."

A very Dante-like smirk moved Trish's facial features as she walked to the front door, her purse swinging. "Uh huh, and those expert grooming skills have gotten us so many odd jobs lately. Anyway, I'm dry enough and world of coffee beckons to me. Come along. I'll treat." She snapped her fingers in feigned remembrance. "Oh, and I'm borrowing your car either way."

The man didn't even register the silent phone on the desk as he came up next to her. "You're paying." As an afterthought, he checked for his depressingly thin wallet and found it inside a pocket of his ruby coat. Who knows if the silly girl really had enough cash for more than one cup of coffee?

She laughed and pointed at his holsters. "No weapons."

A/N: Dante's hair just couldn't be left out. I had to make fun. Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. The Dante Charm

" 'Kiki's Komplete Kappicino Kafe'?" Through the rain-blurred windshield, Dante read the restaurant sign with a skeptical expression. "This is where the fantastic coffee shop is? And what sort of weird name is Kiki, anyway?" During the car ride over, Trish wouldn't tell him the name of the shop, only directions. 

"It's just a name. Besides, what sort of name is Dante?" Trish teased, then touched his arm, her tone smug. "Looks like you will be getting wet."

It was true. From his sports car to the cafe's entrance, a short sprint would be needed. No shade in between the two destinations whatsoever. Once they were inside, the warm air was a pleasant change compared to the outside's more frigid wind. And Dante was still fairly dry.

Now he didn't know what kind of atmosphere to expect in the cafe was until he was actually in it. The place was a far cry from the strip clubs he frequented. Instead of the babes, now there were old married couples and their hyper, little kids. He saw a wall clock and realized since it was the afternoon hours, naturally there would be seniors. Seeing the patrons' casual and bland colors for attire, he cringed at his own ensemble. Full body of tight leather AND it was bright red. Geez, did all that not just _scream _sex? Why not have a blinding cherry to add on top? He felt his face flushing the same color when various eyes set upon his bold clothing choice. Well, at least his boots and gloves were black. That made things better. But not much.

A female voice interrupted Dante's musings. "Trish! Long time so see!"

Dante perked up with interest as a woman came around the counter and did the girly gibber with Trish. Not only was she not wrinkled and ancient, but that voice of hers! Low and even sultry. The tone could seduce men to putty and she wouldn't even know it! It suited her shoulder-length raven hair and auburn eyes. Strange thing, she appeared quite open and didn't fit under the "mysterious" category which combined sexy voices and good looks all while shrouded with the veil of silence. He found himself feeling goofy.

"...this?" he caught the last snippet of the girl's question and he sensed her curious gaze.

"Dante," he put in, totally oblivious if she even asked for his name. 

It was a good guess because he got a great smile from her. The girl replied, "I'm Kiki." 

_Kiki._ Dante could already hear the melodic harp strings trilling inside his brain as she said something about how a pleasure it is to meet him and won't they take a seat at the corner table she pointed to? His legs moved and he seated down across from Trish. Her slight tug on his vest brought his attention back to the cafe. Beside the table, Kiki stood with a notepad and pen in hand. "What do you want, Dante?" Trish asked.

Now that question had different interpretations! He cleared his throat as he lamely picked out a fancy-sounding latte off the chalkboard menu hung high up behind the counter. Knowledge of all these coffee flavors and types was not information Dante kept up to date with. His drink apparently had chocolate shreds on top. That was all that mattered. Trish ordered the same latte, only with extra, extra foam. Waitress Kiki left to make their order.

Trish waited a moment before leaning in. "Not such a bad name after all, huh?" she whispered.

"What?"

"Y'know, Kiki."

Dante shrugged. "Whatever."

A small shove on his shoulder provoked a glare. Before he could retort, she propped her chin in her hands and an elfish graced her pixie face. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, demon guy."

"Huh?"

"You like her, right? But you look sorta weird."

"And you're going to psychoanalyze me?" His leather pointer finger poked her in the middle of the forehead.

"I've been around you for awhile and I know when something's going on. So tell me." When no reply came, she added, "I can set you two up if you're interested."

He groaned. "Pul-lease. You'd marry us if you could." 

"Well? What is it that catches Mr. Sparda's attention?"

"Drop it, okay?" He didn't want to dive into a heavy discussion over something as insignificant as liking a voice. It was like admiring a singing voice on the radio; if it sounds great, the listener enjoys it for a couple minutes and then goes on with life after the song comes to an end. No big deal.

So chatting turned to the topic of morning events; Trish about the friend she had been hanging out with and Dante about how much he appreciated having her around to cure his business boredom. Wispy white steam floated up as latte cups placed on the round table between them and Dante felt his mouth water, even though he honestly didn't know what drink he got. But there were those chocolate bits, oh yes! He looked up to see none other than Kiki. He suddenly felt this ridiculous urge to smile. So he did. Again, he got the same response and a wooden stirring stick dropped into his drink. Hmm, grinning all the time would do him some good. But that would no doubt ruin the badass image he worked so hard to concrete from the past couple years. When fighting nocturnal demony things, it was definitely an image he wanted to keep. 

A wink came from Kiki, directed at the demon hunter. "You should visit here more often. You'd sure make my day better."

"If my drink satisfies me enough, I'll be sure to keep future visits in mind," Dante joked.

"Then shall I offer you extra foam for that latte of yours? Or more chocolate sprinkles?" She leaned in and whispered loud enough for her friend to hear, "Free of charge, of course."

Trish's mouth dropped open at the injustice. "Hey! You'd charge me for the taste of extra bliss? Unfair!"

Dante nibbled the end of his stick of wood to halt a grin. The quick face he made at the chalky taste on his tongue couldn't be hid. Gah, this is the adored object he had told Trish about earlier? The damn wood tasted awful! Ah, whatever. It still felt cool to have the thing moving around in his mouth like a cigarette. The perk being the absence of eye-stinging smoke.

Kiki didn't notice any of this as she was watching the blonde. She commented, " 'Trishy'? How adorable. You two must get along well."

"Pfft. Right. Like me and the stupid rain." Dante noticed she didn't press the name issue. That meant she didn't mind it.

"A fight between you and rain? And all this time I thought you got along. What happened?" Good-natured lightheartedness made Kiki tip her head in wonder. "You expected too much? You not getting enough attention?"

"I got dumped on. It's a shame, really." Trish sighed as her coffee stick twirled in cloudy circles within sugared foam. 

"That was strike one," Dante informed the waitress, his imitation cigarette moving on his lips as he spoke. "The rain just had too many problems. She didn't pay attention. Wait, that's strike two. Poor her."

Kiki patted a comforting hand on Trish's shoulder. "Too bad. At least you still have Dante."

"A free brownie would cheer me up," the girl responded, totally ignoring Kiki's words.

"Sorry. That's against the rules."

"So is free latte foam and chocolate."

"I can make exceptions." Before leaving, Kiki shot one last suggestive look at the amused Dante, who shook his head at the offer.

"She sure likes you," Trish commented when they were alone, taking a sip of her drink. Dante did the same before singing out, "Jealous, are we?"

"Never."

"Uh huh."

Trish pouted. "So what was strike one?" 

"Not paying enough attention to Alastor. I won, remember?"

"I was cold and wet, Dante!"

They stayed silent as they drank. Dante finished in a good five gulps before setting down the empty cup with a tap. The coffee straw remained clamped between his lips as he watched his partner slurp down her own cup. Wait, polite girls don't slurp their drinks, they sip it with dainty airiness. She looked pretty cute doing the polite thing. Of course, that pretty much was all the time. She shook her head when she noticed his stare and his eyes raised into a roll. They found the other side of the restaurant for amusement. At least it was slightly more interesting than Trish's cup of caffeine. Kiki wasn't anywhere to be seen, so no flirting there. His gaze glazed in boredom as he counted the rotations of a spinning overhead fan. Dizziness encouraged him to stop. He tilted his head down and as he did, a blob of something orangey made him look over. A table away and behind a chair, a little girl with wavy curls of red hair peeked out at him. She looked about seven and seemed to enjoy playing hide-and-seek with the chair. Her liquid green eyes trained on him in wide-eyed fascination. More precisely, she stared at his leather outfit, but her vision flew up to his face when he caught her gaze.

"Hey there," Dante called out in amicable greeting, putting his stirring stick into his empty cup. Normally he despised little twerps, but the happy mood he was in made him put the fact aside. Besides, her curious demeanor had this wacky appeal.

"Hi," the little girl shyly replied, tugging on her sunflower checkered dress. Dante's peripheral vision caught Trish watching his face with avid interest. He tried, "How come you're standing way over there?" His admirer shrugged, looking embarrassed. He said, "You can stay there, but I can't hear you so well if you're all the way across the room." A lie, but she didn't need to know.

She blinked as she considered what next to do. Boldly, she neared and when beside his table, Dante reached on the opposite end of it and plucked something up. 

"Here, for you." He smiled a dazzling grin, handing the girl what he had. A pack of sugar from the condiments tray. Trish was on the verge of laughing and leaked some. The person receiving the gift blushed instantly and let out a giggle. Yes, the Dante charm could even work on little girls too. And he barely had to try! He tried not to laugh. 

The small redhead seemed to finally realize that another person sat at the table with the mysterious man and she beamed a look at Trish. The silent woman set down her coffee cup and exclaimed with admiration, "Oh, Dante, she's so cute. Were you that captivating when you were her age?"

The silver-haired man gazed over at her in mock astonishment. "Hark, am I hearing you admit I'm charming? Why Trishy, I'm so happy."

"Keep on dreaming!"

Swiveling his attention back to the kid, Dante couldn't believe himself when he cooed, "So what made you want to talk to me?" Heck, I'm Dante Sparda; what other reason would you possibly need?

Curious eyes regarded him in wonder, and she responded simply, "You're pretty."

The two coffee lovers smiled and Trish piped in an, "aww!", though whether it was meant for Dante or the kid, he couldn't be certain. Meanwhile, he replied, "Thank you. And may I say you're very pretty too." Short tresses bobbed as little princess laughed, blushing some more. He managed to contain an "aww!" himself. This kiddy cuteness was getting a little overwhelming! "So what's your name?"

"Alison."

Trish said, "That's a nice name. Are you here with someone?"

"My mommy." As if on cue, a stern female voice called out Alison's name. Disappointment crossed the little child's face, but she smiled at him and Caffeine Girl before happily trotting off with her packet of sugar. 

Trish grabbed his forearm in astonishment. "That was all so adorable! I've never seen you so- nice!"

Dante eased a smooth hand on top of hers and said suavely, "I can be the gentleman if I try." Her eyebrow raised, but he ignored it as he wondered about the bill. Just when he was starting to recall how much his drink cost and whether it was the more expensive one, Trish plunked down money on the tabletop and grabbed her purse. Outside, the rain had slowed to a very light mist which Dante and his leather were tons grateful for. 

"Shoes at the mall? You're kidding!" Dante stopped strolling the parking lot at Trish's suggestion of their next destination. "What is the insane attraction of shoes to girls?"

"Don't get huffy on me. I'm only beginning to understand it myself. Besides, I haven't shopped for shoes in...well, ever! The Underworld is all I've known."

Dante grumbled, "No credit cards there, I'll bet."

"Huh? Credit cards? What's that?"

"Never mind. You really don't want to know."

The girl shrugged, but perkiness still held her expression. "It should be fun! I haven't gone shoe shopping yet!"

"Hmph. Well, I've been regular clothes shopping and it's bad enough. Too much selection. Don't torture me with this."

She looped her purse strap around her neck and pushed it around to her back, freeing her hands. Moving behind him, Trish squeezed her arms around his neck in an affectionate -if not choke worthy- hug. Her chin sat on his left shoulder and Dante tried not to think of the many body curves being pressed against his back. Music which was her honeyed tone floated into his ear. "I can make it worth your time."

"Shoes," he said flatly, like she had gone crazy.

"Don't you care about me, Dante?" Trish's arms slithered lower and under the rain-dampened trench coat with tickling intent to his sides. The heat from her fingertips seared right through his thick vest like didn't even wear it. Dante sighed. "Blackmail, now? You truly are devious, devil girl." He couldn't stop his restless body from reacting to her touch, at the closeness. Trish must have detected this change and her teasing lips curved upwards against the side of his neck. Her playful hands stilled firm on his hips. "That's how you like me, right?"

The drizzling mist felt refreshing on the half-demon's heated skin and he tilted his face up to absorb the much needed coolness. "You _are _evil."

Her booted toe tapped hard against his calf. "Hey, not anymore."

"Unless cappuccinos are involved. Then the exception is made." He shifted, trying to gain some sort of advantage, but the seductive huntress' grip proved unyielding. 

"I suppose that's true. But I'm a nice girl. Honest," murmured the diplomat as she tried to break him down some more by trailing kisses over the back of Dante's neck. The pace of his heart picked up and her hot breath almost made his own stop. He sighed deep. "This is totally unfair, you know that, right?"

"Two strikes for dear Dante," said Trish with a giggle. Before he could ask, she explained, "That first one is you sleeping on the job. Lazy, lazy."

"Your fault. You barged in."

"Great comeback! Very convincing."

He groaned. First the secret of his hairbrush revealed and now shopping. He repressed a shudder. When could he ever win? "Two hours."

"Two hours? That's hardly any time!"

"I could drop you off at the mall and leave you be for as long as you desire."

A very short silence, then, "All right, two hours. You've been generous today. I want to be with you today." The flirty girl's body deflated enough for him to wiggle free. When he turned, her hands were behind her back in playful shyness. "Thanks, Dante."

Dante grimaced. "Don't thank me yet." 

-------------  
A/N: What fun awaits Dante next? Will he be weak and buy footwear himself? (New boots are always good!) The final chapter awaits...


	3. Having Fun In So Many Ways

"Bored, bored, I'm so bor-" Trish's hand clamped over Dante's mouth as he began chanting the third line of the jolly tune that boredom inspired. It had been the twelfth shoe pavilion he waited through and number thirteen he was about to walk into. His heavy boots, however, had other plans and stopped moving. His patience had extended an extra half hour over the two hours he could tolerate, and he considered it very generous since shopping ranked as low as cleaning DNC's office. So he settled on a most disturbing method of manipulation which would no doubt catch Trish's attention and hopefully cut the trip short. He had followed behind the woman at a lagging pace, hoping that by the time he walked past the shoe store Trish browsed in, she would be done and move on to the next shop. It surprised him when that actually happened the first couple shops, but as luck had it, most of the browsing sprees hadn't been so short and comfortable. And he had gotten hungry along the route, so after getting unresponsive replies from her, he did the only thing that would snap her out of the trying-and-possibly-buying reverie: near yodeling.

"Hush, Dante. You're embarrassing Trish," the said girl spoke in a chiding manner, as a mother would to their child. 

"Mmmpha mmmhph hmmph?" The blocking hand lowered. He held back grinning as he whined, "But I'm hungry! It's been 40 minutes since we had anything! Plus you promised to treat me."

Pulling Dante aside, the devil-girl soothed, "Just a little longer. Ten more minutes, then we'll eat."

In a much louder voice, he said, "But now, Trishy! I can't wait!" The grown man became fully aware of the eyes that befell them, but ignored it. In truth, he wasn't starving, and he in fact could wait the ten minutes, but for once today he wanted something to go right. An extreme, sadistic smile spread on his face and he continued breathy, "Oh, I can't stand it anymore. I need you _now_! You know that! How can you deny me like this?"

The red fires of the Underworld didn't come close in comparison as the blond flushed the deepest scarlet Dante had ever witnessed from her. Shoppers now gaped at the "couple", and though his face felt a few degrees warmer due to the daring stunt, he knew it didn't match Trish's boiling point temperature. Valiant resistance to smirk was truly proving difficult as his lower lip twitched so he bit down on it.

The young woman glared with such intense fury and humiliation that he had to look away in case he got burned. She growled very low and muttered through clenched teeth, "Fine. You win. Get moving."

"Delightful." The half-demon man tossed a carefree arm around her shoulders and as she shuffled out, he added an octave higher, "I'm so glad you changed your mind. I don't know how much longer I could have restrained myself." They had gone only about two feet out of the shop when burning pain radiated from his side and he jumped away with a sharp gasp, realizing her quivering hand was its source. 

"Damn you, Dante!" Trish hissed venom into his glowering expression, her face rosy with anger. "Why the hell did you do that? You couldn't have the patience to wait another ten minutes??" Dante dodged a furious kick to his shin then replied calmly, "Don't make such a huge deal out of it. Everyone gets embarrassed now and then."

"You're such an idiot!" She sniffed hard, clutching her purse, refusing to glance his direction as she walked faster. 

"Look, you weren't listening to me so I had to get your attention somehow." Dante had to take longer strides to keep up. "It worked, didn't it? You're with me now."

Almost stumbling over her feet, she stopped and stared into his crystal eyes in bewilderment at the change in mood. "What?"

The adrenaline flowing through his veins began thinning and Dante suddenly felt awkwardness mixing in. Why did he just say that? A sudden surge of ineptness punched him right in the solar plexus as he stated. "You said you wanted to be with me today."

"Yeah?"

"Shoe shopping by yourself didn't include me. Can you say 'bored out of my mind'? "

"Sure you were part of it! There were lots of opportunities you could have given your opinions! That store with the drawing of the shoe as the sign, and that other shop with the cute knee-high boots. Like-" Trish cut herself off, thinking over her words. A sheepish smile soon formed on her lips . "All right, so perhaps I got overexcited and forgot about you. It's my first shoe shopping experience after all."

Dante stared, awaiting the proper reply. 

Trish frowned. "What?"

"Say it."

"What? Say what?"

"You're apologizing, right?"

"Possibly."

"So, apologize. You were getting to it."

The kick from earlier connected to his shin and Dante doubled over, clutching the injury. Trish gloated in unabashed glee. "You get that first." 

"That does it," he grumbled, caring less about unwanted attention, part two. Ignoring the pain, his arm shot out around her calves and he yanked hard, causing the woman to fall back with a short shriek. An adept sweep had his other arm supporting her upper back right before her head smacked on the tile floor. He set her down and leaned forward, grinning wickedly. Trish naturally looked annoyed and tried to aim a punch to his shoulder. Her eyes widened when she did this and Dante knew she understood her predicament. Her lying form was wedged between his knees and hands and he hovered above her face in a very predatory position. The half-demon could feel tidal waves of her discomfort and heat. He drank in this pure delight like fresh nectar. 

"So," he whispered in sultry teasing, "where were we?" 

He only smoothed away messy strands of her hair when Trish shifted in the very limited space she had. There was no answer, but her face began to turn tomato red as people stared at them. Again. She rolled her eyes, finally saying, "What do I do to get you the hell off me? This floor is freezing and it's numbing my back."

Silver-white hair touched her neck as Dante's mouth lingered precariously close to the skin of her bare shoulder. A field of tiny goosebumps blossomed down the girl's arms and then it registered in his brain that her halter top didn't cover that much of her back. Parts that weren't clothed was exposed to the cold linoleum. She probably was re-evaluating shirt choice right now. Halter tops weren't sweaters. But he did like the light blue. Her nervous heartbeat and shallow breathing turned his mouth upward and it curved up even more at her chill. This was too fun! He murmured, "Maybe I won't say." 

"If you don't, I'll find my own way out." One of Trish's legs rose slightly, aligning with his crotch. Dante felt this and he shook his head in scolding intent before he sat all of his weight on her thighs. "Nuh-uh. You're not causing me any more bodily pain today."

Trish cried out at the sudden press of mass. She looked ready to kill with the daggers she glared at him with. Dante sighed in contentment at the feeling of stretched leather on leather. His body was responding with the proximity, heating up too, but he allowed it a wrestled moment's desire before he spoke up. "People are watching. All I need is that apology and I'll let you go. Simple."

Her embarrassment had spread down her neck, to her ears. The erratic fall and rise of her chest had Dante musing how good some cold water would taste. Heck, he was thirsty. He glanced over when a tinny boy's voice said, "Mommy, what are they doing?" The disgusted mother covered her son's eyes and dragged him away at breakneck speed. Trish's blush practically deepened to maroon. Dante straightened a little, wondering how long this would take. Feeling was diminishing in his legs. Trish suddenly blurted, "Fine! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm SORRY! I'll never take you out shopping again! You're killing me, you're so damn heavy!" 

"Shall that be strike three for Trishy?" Pleasantly satisfied, Dante nodded and got up slow, brushing off his outfit while the glum girl gasped for air. She leaned into him with shaky bearings after he pulled her up. She rubbed at her arms to warm them. She mumbled, "So if I get three strikes, how am I out?"

He shrugged, feeling jaunty. "Dunno. No dessert after dinner?"

After a long bathroom stop for Trish, the crazy man decided to buy orange juice for the both of them. Something non-alcoholic, she insisted very strongly, so juice it was. At the counter, Trish attempted to stretch her arms a bit while Dante reached into his trench coat pocket for his wallet to pay for their drinks. He frowned when his fingers grasped air. "Damn it!"

"Hmm? What's the matter?"

"My wallet's missing!"

She sighed with irritating patience. "Don't go cussing now. You can find it in a minute." She extracted some change from her tiny purse for the guy behind the counter. Dante groaned as she handed him his drink. He was supposed to treat and couldn't. The one time he felt generous enough to part with some of his hard earned cash and he couldn't. His anger was mainly due to the very important piece of information had jotted down from an intriguing stripper he had eyed during his last trip to the local strip club. Not only had she been intriguing, but she made one hell of a cheesecake, as she proved when she offered some during her break. Dante fell in love. And he could fall in love a billion times again, if he still had the recipe that was tucked away in his wallet. 

Trish suggested a search and he agreed to backtrack out of the food court and to the shoe shops which meant a second round of torture for Dante. Shoe store after shoe store they searched, finding nothing. He didn't actually step foot into any of the stores; he wasn't about to be tempted into buying any footwear. Trish had enough enthusiasm for the both of them. Searching went on for ten minutes before Dante lost patience. He just felt tired and cranky and uncaring and in no mood to look. He could always fall in love later. "Forget it, Trish. Let's go home." 

"Damn it!" Dante yelled out in frustration as the office's door flung open for them. He slammed it just as forcefully after Trish stepped in. "I worked so hard for it too!" he growled, his mind spinning over the forlorn fact of his lost cheesecake recipe. Though evening darkened the sky, and it soon would turn into his favorite part of the day, he could have cared less right now. He slouched as a grump would on his beat-up couch, heavy and uncaring. A faint cloud of dust puffed out, evidence that he should buy a vacuum cleaner one of these days. Trish joined mutely beside him. She grinned and took his meaning the wrong way when she replied, "The money? C'mon, Dante, it's not like you had much to begin with. Was there even a single credit card in there? And even if there were, it's not like you had a million bucks stashed away."

"It was a great wallet too." He groaned, adding that admission as another reason why he should stay mad. He turned and prepared to bellow out the real reason for his craziness when he frowned. Trish was smiling oddly. Dante's jaw set. "Do you know something? Or am I too amusing for you?"

Avoiding his glare, she cleared her throat. "I was curious, that's all."

"Huh?" About to pounce, Dante's eyes narrowed more.

"I wanted to see how shallow you are. I wanted to see if you'd fuss like I thought you would." She opened her purse and pulled out a familiar looking piece of brown leather. He grabbed it away, hugged it briefly, then shoved it into his jacket. His beloved recipe was safe! His sanity would live on! He nearly yelled, "You are definitely evil!"

Trish laughed. "You are so shallow! I'm right! Look at the fuss you put up."

"I'm NOT shallow." She would never understand the rare gem of the perfect food. 

"Sure you are. You pay so much attention to all these weapons of yours. You go on dates with all these other women and you don't commit. I mean, have you ever had a time when you saw a girl and the whole world stopped turning? That love at first sight thing? And not in a sex way."

One girl that did so much as stop Earth's pull of gravity... Dante hummed a little as the gears cranked on inside his head. Sure there were lots of girls that got his attention and once he gave it, they reciprocated by giving _him _a good time. But out of all those girls, just one? Then he remembered. There was a girl that sparked those buoyant qualities of himself that he hid. It was about three years ago. Oh, there were two lovely ladies in fact; their hair and eyes contrasted each other's as distinct as night sky to bright. One a brunette and the other a blond. Even attitudes differed: one was mysterious and the other unguarded. 

He got to know one of those special girls, though he couldn't recall who came along first. Liking the lady very much, interest in her grew quick. Vibrant and willing to help him even during her low moods, Dante had never experienced the joy of being with such an amazing goddess in a way that went deeper than plain physical attraction. As he grew comfortable with her, the other female captured his attention. The events almost followed exactly the same way as it had with the first girl and it stunned him that two women could make a deep connection. The newcomer adored him too and didn't mind her own sacrifice as long as she guided him to the best of her abilities. Soon, both of them begged for his attention, his love. Caught inside a dilemma, Dante struggled with who would receive the boot. They knew he needed space, so they never said anything to put any pressure on. They were never clingy. Eventually he chose to have both of them in his life because the thought of losing one over the other was unspeakable. They cherished the demon hunter even more for making such a rational decision. 

Yes, Ivory and Ebony were his true loves at first sight. 

Dante told Trish exactly that. "See, I'm not as shallow as you think. Two women I've fallen in real love with," he finished proudly.

Her explosive laughter didn't stop for a good minute. When she caught her breath, she said half serious, "You're a hopeless cause! I'll bet you don't care for me at all, compared to those guns!" She gasped when her back swiftly pinned to the back of the musty couch and Dante's tranquil blue eyes leveled with her dazed ones. His mouth almost touched hers when his low voice murmured, "You sure about all that? I don't work my best charms on just any lady. They need to be special."

Trish's playful hands lay flat on his thighs, undecided on the path to roam. "Maybe we can argue that another time, hmm?"

THE END


End file.
